The Best Intentions
by BeccaRamsey
Summary: FAM Zorro. A business trip to Santa Barbara leads to something more personal for all involved.
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Best Intentions

Rated: T

Synopsis: A business trip to Santa Barbara leads to something more personal for all involved.

Disclaimer: "Zorro" belongs to the estate of Johnston McCulley, Goodman/Rosen Productions, New World Television, Zorro Productions, and (possibly) Sony Entertainment. He and the associated characters are used here only for the benefit of my fellow fans. No profit is to be made from this story. (Politics major:money:blood:turnip.)

Author's Note: Here we go, folks. First fic in this fandom and it's going to be a work in progress. Many thanks to Amy, who has kindly provided beta services. Any mistakes you see now are my fault!

Dedicated to the NWZ Group... and Tim, who provided all those DVDs I've been overdosing on. )

* * *

Victoria Escalante gave a small sigh as her eyes dusted across the darkening horizon. Stillness was beginning to settle on the Cristoba hacienda, replaced by the echo of piano and guitar as they drifted into the lush courtyard. The harmonies tangled with the chorus of crickets, coyotes, and other nocturnal creatures interlaced with periodic outbursts of boisterous laughter. Above them all rose a distinctive voice, half cackle, half laughter. It was the sound of Don Alejandro de la Vega, the reason she now stood among the roses and vines in the courtyard of the Cristoba hacienda.

It had been a tiresome week at the tavern – training a new cook, dealing with an influx of travelers with the warmer weather, and the usual insanity of Alcalde DeSoto's quest for Machiavellian dominance. All had been taxing on the already tired senorita. When she settled down opposite Don Alejandro, it was a welcome respite.

"Victoria!" the elder don exclaimed. "You look exhausted!"

The taverness smiled wearily to her dear friend. "Sí, Don Alejandro," she replied. "It has been a very long week."

Beside her, Alejandro's son, Diego, grimaced. "Yes, things have certainly been…busy," he said. "The tavern is bustling, the alcalde is inventing new taxes – it's enough to try the strongest of souls."

"I suppose so," she admitted. "The new cook will help – having her should leave me with more time to manage the tavern, and maybe even take a vacation."

"A vacation sounds like a wonderful idea, Victoria."

"Yes, it would only be for a few days, but I would take anything at this point."

"Perhaps a trip to Santa Barbara?"

The senorita eyed Diego warily. "Perhaps." Memories of her last trip with Diego swirled to the surface. They had traveled to Santa Paula to meet with one of the king's royal emissaries, to persuade him to investigate Alcalde DeSoto's corrupt and excessive tax system. They had stayed well into the day, and when they had departed later in the afternoon, it was with the intention to ride until reaching Los Angeles. A storm had curtailed their efforts, however, and the two had sought refuge in an abandoned windmill somewhere between Santa Paula and Los Angeles. She couldn't help the mischievous grin that twitched across her lips at the memory. "Perhaps. So long as it would involve an inn, rather than a drafty windmill," she chided.

Diego returned the grin, but as he opened his mouth to speak, was interrupted by his father. "Diego, are you suggesting that Victoria join us on our visit to Santa Barbara?" Victoria heard the hint of surprise in the elder man's voice.

"That's exactly what I'm suggesting, Father. Victoria needs a holiday. We leave in a week to visit Don Luis, take care of some business, and visit with his family. It would work out very well."

"It's hardly appropriate for her to –"

"Father," Diego interrupted, his voice dropping slightly, "Doña Helena is always mentioning that she feels out numbered during our visits. Especially when her daughter-in-law is feeling…withdrawn. I'm certain she would be delighted to host Victoria as well."

"You might be right at that, my son." Alejandro turned to Victoria. He offered a kindly smile. "It's certainly up to you, Victoria. We would be more than happy to have you along."

She sat, gaping at Don Alejandro briefly before realizing all attention was focused on her. A holiday? With the de la Vegas? "I…wouldn't want to impose, Don Alejandro."

"Nonsense!" Alejandro replied. He appeared to be rapidly warming up to the idea. "I will write Luis today, let him know we will bring company for his wife."

Victoria thinned her lips to a taught line as she contemplated. A few days away might just be what she needed. After a moment, she nodded resolutely. "If Don Luis doesn't mind, I think it might be a wonderful idea."

That had been a week ago. Seven days and several hours later found her standing alone in an arbor leading out of the courtyard of the Cristoba hacienda.

"No! It's mine! Give it back!"

Or at least, partially alone.

She blinked and turned her gaze from the horizon beyond, turning her attention into the courtyard itself. As quiet as it had been only a few seconds before, it was suddenly filled with the vitality of children: Sabrina Cristoba, granddaughter to Don Luis, charged into the space, followed quickly by her brother, Gabriel. In her hand, Sabrina held a long stick, carved like a sword. She stopped and whirled on her brother, standing en garde. "Sabrina! It's mine! Give it back!"

"Come and take it, baby brother!" A wicked smile twitched across the girl's features and she shifted her stance slightly. "Or are you too chicken?"

Oh the memories this brings back, Victoria thought. All those years of chasing after her bigger brothers when they stole her beloved doll, "Mora," named for her bright blue dress. More often than not, neither her mother nor father had the time to corral the two boys and force them to give the doll back. She soon learned her own offensive tactics – namely stealing the sticks and marbles the boys themselves loved so. It was a never-ending cycle that she imagined her own children would continue one day… if, of course, she ever had children of her own. In the meantime, she would help little Gabriel with his current dilemma. She stopped in her tracks, however, as a voice emerged from the shadows.

"Ah, but he's too smart to charge such a well-armed opponent."

A prickle of familiarity rushed through her. _Zorro?_ she thought, hopeful. She stood watching in silence as Don Diego, not Zorro, emerged from a far corner of the house, stepping into the dim, orange light given off by the courtyard lanterns. The tall caballero was clad now in his crisp white cotton shirt and trousers, having lost the more formal vest and silk necktie from dinner. A lopsided smile curved the lips under his moustache as he walked, and his dark hair flopped against his forehead with each lanky step. Though she was somewhat disappointed, Victoria had to admit it was the most relaxed she had ever seen her friend.

Gabriel and Sabrina stopped, looking to Diego as he approached. "'Brina stole my sword, Don Diego," Gabriel said with a pout, "and now she won't give it back."

"I only wanted to play with it for a while!" Sabrina shot back. She couldn't, of course, allow her honor to be impugned.

Diego leveled a gaze at the young girl. "Did you ask your brother if you could borrow it?"

The girl grimaced and her gaze drifted to the sandy path beneath her feet. "No."

"Then I suggest you give it to me. If you ask nicely, I'm sure your brother will let you borrow it for a time tomorrow." Diego looked from Sabrina to Gabriel. "Am I right, Gabriel?"

"Sí, Don Diego," the boy answered.

Sabrina sighed. "Okay," she said at length. She handed the toy sword to Diego, careful not to look the caballero in the eye. "I'm sorry, Gabriel. Sorry, Don Diego."

"Why don't you go see if your grandfather will let you on the piano," Diego said, ruffling her dark hair slightly. "I know my father is just dying to hear you play."

"Really?" Don Diego nodded. Sabrina squealed, then rushed for the door leading to the music room. "Bye, Diego!" she called over her shoulder.

Victoria couldn't help but smile at the way Diego had handled the conflict. He spoke to them quietly, reasoning with them, and making them remember the guidelines their own parents had set for them. While such disciplining didn't always work, it was gratifying when it did. If only her mother and father had the time to do so with she and her brothers! Maybe he wouldn't make such a bad father himself, she mused. Diego began speaking to the boy before she could voice her admiration.

"This is a very nice sword," he said. He looked down the length of the stick, then juggled it slightly in his hand. It was far too short for the caballero, but he seemed to appreciate the workmanship. Victoria watched as he executed a quick cross-hatch pattern with the wooden toy. "And weighted well, too." With a smile, he handed the sword back to Gabriel.

"One of Papa's vaqueros made it for me," Gabriel replied as he took the toy sword. "He had the blacksmith add some weights -- make it more real." He looked up at the taller man. "Do you have a sword, Don Diego? A real sword?"

A sudden chill washed over Victoria and she instinctively drew her shawl tighter around her. Diego? A sword? A "real" sword? Inwardly, she chuckled. Not Don Diego. On the rare occasions he _did_ wear a scabbard, it contained a lighter blade, designed for beginners or novices. Still, he recognized the different class and maneuvered the smaller wooden toy better than she expected. Did he know how to wield one better than he let on?

Across the courtyard, Diego gave a visible start at her motion and looked up from his charge. As their eyes met in the flickering light, she saw a brief flash before he blinked and reined in whatever thought tore across his mind. _Was that…fear?_ she wondered, questioning both her sudden chill and the gleam she had seen in Diego's eyes. What could Diego be afraid of? Moving to meet the two, Victoria couldn't help but think something significant had just happened. She just wasn't sure precisely what it was.

"Victoria," the caballero said by way of greeting. He offered a genuine, if noticeably taut smile.

Victoria returned the smile, then looked down at Gabriel before turning her smile back to Diego. "I see you found a friend."

"Indeed I did," Diego replied. Several feet below, Gabriel attempted the same cross-hatch maneuver Diego had executed earlier with less satisfactory results. He patted Gabriel on the shoulder with a chuckle. "Gabriel, why don't you go see about your sister's recital?"

"Will you show me how to do that later?"

"Of course." The little boy beamed up at the tall caballero, then dashed off in the same direction as his sister. Diego watched Gabriel disappear into the house before turning back to her. "Are you feeling all right? You look chilled."

Victoria laughed at the concern. "I suppose I am a bit," she answered, readjusting her shawl. "But I'm fine. Really." He arched a skeptical brow and she blushed under his attention. "I'm just… not accustomed to all of this." She waved an arm, indicating their surroundings.

Attending the de la Vega dinner parties was one thing; being a guest of the Cristobas was quite another. While Doña Helena had been with the group, she felt very much included; her attentions were motherly in nature, and the kindness made Victoria feel welcome. That lasted until Doña Helena went to bed. Her daughter-in-law, Doña Beatriz – aloof most of the evening anyway – followed suit soon after. Victoria was then left alone with the men and suddenly felt out of place.

Diego grimaced. "I apologize for Doña Helena. Don Luis told us she was recently ill and has not regained her strength as yet."

"Perhaps I should have stayed in Los Angeles," she observed with a scowl.

"Nonsense."

Victoria felt her scowl lightened to a smile as she thought about how much he sounded like Don Alejandro.

"I'm certain Doña Helena has enjoyed your company," Diego added, pausing. "If it's any consolation, I know I have." He paused again, clearing his throat. "And father, of course."

A wry smile stole across Victoria's lips. "Of course," she echoed. Their smiles faded as silence fell over them. Her gaze drifted to the fringe of her shawl, and she fingered it idly, unsure of what to say. "I – I suppose we should go back in."

His voice was quiet when he responded. "Yes, I suppose we should."

The silence dragged on for a beat longer. Swallowing, Victoria glanced up, watching him through her lashes. The firelight danced across his features, casting shadows usually brightened by Los Angeles sunlight. He was more imposing in the dark, she noticed, outlined as he was against the lanterns, and wearing nothing over the thin cotton shirt. But it was his eyes that stood out – bright blue, caught directly as the closest lantern flared. His gaze softened as she watched, his eyes dusting every contour of her face. The expression took her breath away; she felt at once alarmed and loved – neither of which were feelings she expected to be stirred by her best friend.

Just as quickly as the expression appeared, it vanished, hidden as she turned to face him. He smiled down at her and offered his arm. "Shall we, Señorita? If we hurry, we might catch young Sabrina's concert."

Still in a state of shock, Victoria laughed nervously. "That would be...wonderful," she replied, hooking her arm in his. She moved in step with him as they crossed to enter the music room. They paused together, his hand at the small of her back as he allowed her to enter first.

"Ah! Victoria! Diego! You're just in time!" Don Alejandro called to them. He crossed and ushered them to an empty settee. Victoria smiled at Felipe de la Vega, Don Diego's adopted son, as they seated themselves, then nodded greetings to Don Luis and his son, Don Andres. She was suddenly very aware of Diego's presence next to her.

Sabrina entered from the next room and curtsied. She then climbed onto the piano stool, whirling the wooden frame until it was just tall enough for her to sit comfortably at the keys. Beaming up at her father and grandfather, she began to play a familiar but relatively simple tune. Don Alejandro leaned down from his place behind her and Diego. "I hope to be able to do this with _my_ grandchildren someday, Diego," he whispered.

Diego shifted next to her, and they exchanged glances. He gave a nervous chuckle, looking back at his father. "I'm afraid you'll have to wait just a bit longer, Father," he muttered. The elder de la Vega shook his head, then stood and returned his attention to the recital. Diego smiled sheepishly at her, shrugging. Suddenly, she noticed, Diego de la Vega wasn't as relaxed as he had been in the courtyard. _That makes two of us_, she thought uneasily.


	2. Chapter 2

The Best Intentions  
Becca Ramsey  
See Chapter 1 for disclaimer.

* * *

To say that Diego de la Vega was annoyed with himself was something of an understatement. As soon as the latch clicked on his guest room door, he began unbuttoning his shirt, a determined set to his jaw. He then shied out of the cotton fabric, whipping it to the bed. His hands came to rest on his hips. Why, exactly, had he invited Victoria to come along? To unintentionally give away his secret life? To broadcast to her, through his actions, that _he_ was her masked hero, Zorro? "Certainly seems like it," he muttered.

Diego sighed, lowering himself to the edge of the bed, and running a hand through his short, dark hair. His lips thinned. That hadn't been the intention. As Zorro, he knew all too well the pressure the alcalde could exert. Add to that the everyday hassles Victoria had been facing of late, managing her tavern, and he knew she needed a vacation. Asking her to Santa Barbara with him, his father, and Felipe had seemed a natural solution. A small voice forced him to admit there were selfish reasons, too – the idea of spending a few days in her company had been irresistible. But at what cost?

Previous trips to Santa Barbara with his father had offered a small taste of freedom. He maintained the façade of the foppish, studious Don Diego to a degree, but without the presence of Ignacio DeSoto, the imperative was not quite so strong. The incident in the courtyard, however, proved that Victoria's presence here would curtail that usual sense of freedom.

Young Gabriel, while having heard stories of Zorro, had never known Diego to be any different than he was in Santa Barbara; he saw nothing extraordinary in the basic swordplay lessons Don Diego offered. The Diego Victoria knew, however, carried the sword of a caballero – decorative and serviceable, as well as very light weight. It was a far cry from the weightier saber he was truly accustomed to. The toy sword made for Gabriel was the ten year-old-boy equivalent of that championship saber. Allowing her to see him wield the practice sword as he did should have given it all away. Thankfully, she still seemed unaware just how much she had seen. He had to pray she didn't have an epiphany.

Equally dangerous had been the last two hours, spent sitting next to her on the settee. He could feel the warmth radiating off of her, hear her sighs as she listened to Sabrina play, see her smile at the little girl in his peripheral vision. Could a woman _be_ more attractive? His father's blatant reference to grandchildren had only heightened his awareness of her, made more potent if his father truly did suspect he was Zorro. Hair on the back of his neck stood on end even now, and it took a great deal of discipline to keep himself under control. How simple it would have been to quietly reach over and take her hand in his!

Simple yet… complicated, he reminded himself. After all, _Diego_ and Victoria were friends – nothing more, and certainly nothing less. To hold her hand amidst all those witnesses, especially after all the time they had spent alone together in the courtyard, sans chaperone, might have caused a stir. _It would have been no more scandalous than some of the moments she's spent with you as Zorro_, his inner voice chided. Passionate kisses, touches, caresses – all stolen under cover of darkness, whether in her tavern kitchen or the bedroom; they had never been intimate, but their moments had grown far beyond what was proper years ago. And now he was concerned about simply holding her hand in public? The irony was too thick to be believed.

Shaking his head, Diego heaved a sigh, then shoved himself to his feet. If he were lucky, sleep would come quickly and might ease the stress he felt tightening across his shoulders and in his heart. A soft tap at his door brought him from his thoughts as he made ready for bed. "So much for that idea," he muttered, crossing to the door. He frowned, finding Felipe standing in the hallway. "What is it, Felipe?"

Felipe gestured toward the front of the house. "O-outside," he whispered hoarsely. Though he had regained the ability to speak, his voice was still unsteady from years of disuse. More often than not, he simply reverted to the sign language he and Diego had developed over the years.

"You heard something?" Diego asked. His son nodded. He grimaced, reaching for his shirt. As he slipped his arms back into the sleeves, he stepped out into the corridor. "Show me."

They traveled quietly through the darkened house and moved with ease once their eyes adjusted. Diego allowed Felipe to take the lead and was not surprised as they slipped out a side door from the kitchen. Must've been raiding the leftovers, he thought. His son, it seemed, had turned into an eating machine. _Ah, to be that age again!_

Reaching the entry to the stables, however, Felipe gestured for Diego to pause. The younger man then gestured toward the building itself. Peering over one of the adobe partitions, Diego frowned. A carriage had been pulled to the front, horses already harnessed for travel. What were they doing? The silent question was quickly answered: Gabriel and Sabrina, rubbing their eyes sleepily, were ushered to the carriage from the protective shadows of the stable awning. Each was still clad in their bedclothes, feet bare on the dust. Urgency pervaded the scene as the vaqueros moved with purpose. They assisted Gabriel and Sabrina into the carriage, followed by their nanny, and quickly secured the door. No time was wasted by the driver, who immediately slapped the reins and spurred the horses forward.

Behind the partition, Diego rose slowly and frowned. Felipe stood beside him. "The children were wakened to make this journey," he mused in a whisper to Felipe. "What could be so important to rush the children out at this time of night?"

Felipe gestured. Diego could only nod in response. "Yes, such urgency suggests a family argument. Or perhaps something more ominous." He exchanged significant glances with his son. "Unfortunately, we can't rule either one out at the moment. We'll have to see what we can find out in the morning."

The young man arched his brows and drew a "Z" in the air.

"Not yet. With Victoria here, it's probably best if we leave Zorro in Los Angeles for as long as possible. It could be difficult to explain his presence here – even if he were only following the lovely señorita." He patted Felipe on the shoulder. "Come on. Let's at least _try_ to get some sleep for a change."

As he moved toward the hacienda, however, a glimpse of movement caught his attention. He turned and followed the quickly moving shadow with his eyes as the figure moved closer. The angle of their approach didn't permit him the luxury of an easy identification. Was this the person whom the children were fleeing? Silently, he signaled Felipe to stay put. He would have to see who else was sneaking around the Cristoba hacienda at this hour.

The newcomer, not seeing Diego and Felipe, positioned himself behind a nearby hedge. Diego crept quietly to the rear. Then, as the carriage disappeared around the hacienda, he grabbed the shadow by the arm and whirled him around. In the ambient glow of moonlight, he could make out the very surprised features of Victoria Escalante. "Victoria? What are you _doing_ out here?" he hissed. Whether he was angrier with himself for being caught, or with her for being out, he wasn't sure.

"I could ask you the same question!"

He drew in a calming breath before responding. It would do him no good to lose his temper with Victoria. "I couldn't sleep…and then Felipe came to get me" – he paused, changing his story slightly – "because he saw some shadows moving around by the stables."

"Oh." She gave a sheepish smile. "I couldn't sleep, either. I heard the horses and I…" Her eyes drifted down, looking to the shirt hanging open down his chest. Swallowing, she turned her attention to the curve beyond which the carriage had just disappeared. She seemed suddenly unable to look him in the eye. "Wh-who was leaving at this time of night?"

Diego thought her reaction unusual, but forced himself not to dwell on it. There will be time for that later, he thought. "It looked like the children – Gabriel and Sabrina," he replied, continuing the whispered conversation.

"Where were they going?"

"I'm not certain. Felipe and I arrived just before they departed."

"Should we ask Don Andres or Doña Beatriz?"

He shook his head. "I don't think so. Gabriel and Sabrina were still in their bedclothes; the move was made under cover of darkness – we clearly weren't meant to see this."

Even in the dim lighting, he could see her brows furrow in concern. "But what could be so important that they needed to whisk them out of here in the middle of the night? Could they be in trouble?"

"The same questions occurred to me." Diego couldn't keep the smile from spreading across his lips. While she had not been educated at the university as he had, Victoria's years at the tavern had taught her a thing or two about human nature – sometimes things that even his books couldn't explain. She had an innate curiosity and a need to protect those in danger; the intrigues that Zorro brought to her life only added to these attributes. These were a few of the many things he loved about her. And he loved her even more when they were in evidence. He could only hope that, as he stood there in the darkness, his affection wasn't visible in his eyes.

"And now," he said, "I think we should _both_ try and get some sleep."

"Probably a good idea." She smiled up at him. "Good night, Diego."

"Good night, Victoria. Rest well."

Turning back to the hacienda, she cast him a smile over her shoulder. She then disappeared into the house. It was all he could do not to follow her. "Next time I get a bright idea, Felipe," he muttered as the younger man stepped along side him, "make me think better of it. This trip might be the death of me!"

* * *

Note: Thank you, LeiaSky and Uhm.What? for your reviews! They are much appreciated and hopefully will keep the muses fueled. No update for a few days while I polish off chapter three, and visit with the fam. Have a good weekend!


	3. Chapter 3

The Best Intentions  
Chapter 3  
See Chapter 1 for disclaimer.

* * *

Smoothing her hands over her skirts, Victoria hurried down a main corridor. Her mind whirled half the night with thoughts of the children's departure; moreover, she had spent hours riddling over Diego's strange behavior. Was it really so unusual for the studious caballero to investigate a noise in the middle of the night? She couldn't decide. He could be such a contradiction sometimes! It was nearly sunrise when she finally drifted off to a light sleep. One of the housemaids awakened her only a short time ago and she dressed quickly. She could only hope she looked suitable for breakfast.

She entered the dining room to discover she had, thankfully, arrived just before the meal began. Around the table before her sat the Cristobas – Luis, Helena, Andres, and Beatriz – as well as Diego, Alejandro, and Felipe. The men rose as she appeared. Don Alejandro stepped away from the table, reaching out a hand toward her with a wide smile. "Ah, Victoria! You look lovely this morning!" He looked to his son. "Don't you agree, Diego?"

Diego offered a smile. Despite his sincere expression, Victoria noticed as his hands idly twisted the white napkin he held at his waist. "Victoria always looks lovely, Father," he said. His eyes and tone cheekily admonished Don Alejandro. "Why should this morning be any different?"

Victoria felt warmth creep up her neck. She glanced to Don Alejandro, then back to his son. "Thank you, Diego," she managed after what she hoped wasn't a noticeable pause.

"Come," the elder de la Vega said. He appeared oblivious to her discomfort. "I believe breakfast is just about to begin." He gestured to the empty seat opposite him, where a place setting had been laid for her.

Passing a smile to Don Alejandro then Felipe, Victoria nodded a greeting to the Cristobas and made her way around the oblong table. Diego took her hand as she neared the seat next to him. A jolt of energy surged through her at the contact and she snapped her eyes up to meet his. What was going on here, she wondered. Was this simply some effect of their brief encounter the night before? She wasn't sure she wanted to analyze it. She was in love with Zorro, after all, and not Diego.

Whatever it was, Diego seemed to notice as well, smiling somewhat uncomfortably down at her. He continued holding her hand gently as she lowered herself into her chair, then assisted her in bringing the heavy wooden chair closer to the table. Clearing his throat, he seated himself and placed his napkin in his lap. "I trust you slept well?" he asked.

"I slept well, thank you." She held his eyes with her own, glancing significantly at Don Andres and Doña Beatriz. He nodded imperceptibly. Removing the napkin from the center of her plate, Victoria unfolded it and laid it across her skirts. When she looked up, she addressed the two parents. "Will the children be joining us this morning?"

Don Andres exchanged a glance with his wife. Victoria noted that his smile seemed somewhat forced. "Ah, no, Señorita Victoria," he replied. He leaned back in his seat, allowing one of the servants to serve him. "They left early this morning with our servants to return to our hacienda…which we will be doing shortly after our meal."

"It's a shame. I had hoped to tell them goodbye." Victoria smiled. Don Andres and Doña Beatriz had been remarkably distant, a sharp contrast to the hospitality shown her by Don Luis and his wife. "They really are wonderful children."

"Thank you, Señorita. We are…very proud of Sabrina and Gabriel." Andres poked his serving of eggs with his fork. He cleared his throat. "So, Father, what have you planned for our guests the rest of the day?"

Victoria was aware that Andres was attempting to change the subject. She wondered now what could have happened to cause such discomfort in the man. Instead of pressing the matter further, however, she looked at Don Luis as the elder man answered, "I thought perhaps Don Alejandro and I might conclude our business, and then spend some time out in the far pasture. One of our bulls seems to have lost his temper and taken out a fence. The vaqueros have repaired it, temporarily at least, but I wanted to see the damage myself." He chewed his breakfast thoughtfully. "Would you care to join us, Diego?"

Diego nodded. "The ride might do me a bit of good." Victoria was surprised as he turned to her and added, "That is, of course, as long as you don't mind."

Victoria couldn't help but crease her brows. Since when did Diego need her permission? "I-I don't mind. I'm sure Doña Helena and I can find a way to pass the afternoon."

"Of course!" Doña Helena interjected. "If I'm feeling up to it, we may take a ride ourselves. I understand there was a new shipment of wine arriving today, and I thought the señorita could offer her expert opinion."

"Oh, but Don Alejandro is much better with vintages than I." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement, and turned to find Felipe signing to Diego, a lopsided grin across his features.

"Felipe says that you're underestimating yourself, Victoria," Diego translated with a grin. His expression slipped to match that of his son. "Apparently, he's tasted a few of your selections and liked what he found." He cut a playful glare at Felipe as laughter rang out. "Shame on you, Felipe." The young man could only shrug sheepishly.

"It's settled then," Don Luis said. "Diego, Alejandro, and I will ride out shortly after breakfast, and you ladies can ride into town whenever you wish." He looked to his son and daughter-in-law. "I do wish I could persuade you to stay, Andres."

"I promise we'll be back soon, Father. Beatriz has not been feeling well herself, and I thought that she might rest better at home."

The elder Cristoba nodded his understanding; Victoria could sense, however, that he hesitated to agree. "Of course," he said at length. "Beatriz, I do hope you feel better soon."

Doña Beatriz inclined her head. "Thank you, Father. I hope so as well."

"I'm so glad it turned out to be such a beautiful day!"

Seated atop Arcadia, an Andalusian purchased from the famous de la Vega stock, Helena beamed at Victoria. The sky above them was completely clear of clouds, a deep shade of blue that she had rarely seen before. With moderate temperatures, Victoria felt she had to agree. "A beautiful day for a ride, Doña Helena."

"Oh, why don't you drop the formality and just call me 'Helena,'" the older woman said. "That was all well and good while Beatriz was here, but now that she's gone… Well, let's just say that we can relax a bit."

The comment struck Victoria as strange. "You don't care for your daughter-in-law, D—um, Helena?"

"Don't mistake me, Victoria – I love my daughter-in-law very much. She is a gentle soul, and has provided Luis and I with two grandchildren we cherish."

"But?" Victoria prompted.

"But she stands a bit firmly on tradition." Helena tugged gently on the reins with her left hand, guiding the horse down the well-worn road and passing Victoria a grin over the opposite shoulder. "You may have noticed after dinner last night."

Victoria thought of the distance Doña Beatriz maintained throughout her visit. "I thought perhaps she was just quiet," she said with a smile. She knew that the impish gleam in her eyes, however, conveyed the droll nature of her comment.

Her comment drew a laugh from Helena. "Quiet. I'll have to remember that the next time someone asks me about my beloved daughter-in-law," she remarked. She paused a beat. "I apologize if she offended you. You see, we consider Alejandro and Diego as family; Heaven knows that Luis and Alejandro have wreaked all nature of havoc on the world in their travels. In his letter, Alejandro explained that he considers you family. Luis and I always welcome any friend of Alejandro's."

"I thank you for that," Victoria replied, touched by the sentiment. "Don Alejandro and Don Diego are very dear to me as well. They've certainly looked after me all these years." She paused. How far could she push without arousing Helena's suspicions? "How long has Beatriz been part of the family?"

"Beatriz and Andres met twelve years ago. According to him, it was like something from a novel – eyes locking across the plaza, a tempestuous dance during a festival – love at first sight, if such a thing is to be believed," Helena said airily. She smiled. "They courted and married in a year. To this day, we don't know as much about her as Andres does. He loves her very much. What can we do, but welcome her to the family?"

A wry smile played across the elder woman's lips. "Is there – ahem – any chance you might be joining our little extended family?" Victoria regarded her with furrowed brows, confused. "I apologize for asking, but when I saw the two of you together last night –"

"Oh!" Victoria realized that Helena must have seen she and Diego together shortly after the carriage rolled off into the distance. How must that have looked – especially with Diego only half-dressed? Helena thought they were having an interlude! A blush crept across her cheeks. "No, no…. Diego and I are friends. Close friends, but just friends." She laughed, knowing it sounded absurd even to her. "When I couldn't sleep last night, I went for a walk. It was such a lovely night, I eventually found myself out beyond the courtyard walls, admiring the stars. While I was outside, I ran into Diego – literally! Apparently, he couldn't sleep, either."

Helena nodded, seeming to accept the answer. Her lips thinned, however, and after a moment, she spoke again. "You do know he's in love with you, don't you?"

"Who? Diego?"

"Yes."

"Oh, I admit he might have a crush on me," Victoria said with a laugh, "and I do think he's handsome, but we've felt that way since we were little."

"He speaks of you often when he's here."

At this, her brows arched. Such an admission surprised her. Diego had spoken frequently of a lady love – one who did not and could not return his affections. The memory struck her physically, and she almost choked. Could she be the one he spoke of? The reason he thus far refused to marry because he couldn't have her? "Helena, I pray you're wrong," she said at length. "Diego deserves to marry and give Don Alejandro all the grandchildren he can handle… but my affections are promised elsewhere. If he's waiting for me, I'm afraid he'll always be waiting."

"If that is truly the case, Victoria, then I pray I am wrong as well." Doña Helena gave her a kind but rueful smile before sighing. "Well, shall we make it into town before sundown?"

"Sounds like a wonderful idea, Helena."

* * *

Note: My apologies for the long wait for an update. I've changed jobs recently, and it's caused all nature of havoc on my schedule. The next update will be a little further out, as the BSG!muse has struck. I'm hoping to get to the next chapter during my trip to DragonCon next weekend. Thanks for all the notes of "support"! ;)


	4. Chapter 4

The Best Intentions  
Chapter 4  
See Chapter 1 for disclaimer.

Note: This chapter has not been beta read, so any mistakes you see are my own. It is also, sorry to say, a tad short. I'm ODing on eps once again and brainstorming a bit to remap the story. Hopefully, I can keep going this time.

* * *

Diego felt the bright California sun bathing his skin and dark hair in a heavy warmth. Riding without a hat, he squinted at the horizon watching as, at some distance to his right, Don Luis stood near a broken fence, discussing the issue with one of his vaqueros. He gestured toward the pasture beyond while the vaquero nodded vigorously. To his left, Felipe worked the reins on his horse, maneuvering the creature through a series of stunts as they waited on the caballero; beside him, his father still sat atop yet another Andalusian descendant of the de la Vega stock, his back to the afternoon rays. The young don soon felt his father's gaze upon him.

"You seem a bit preoccupied this trip, my son," Alejandro commented.

Diego smiled ruefully. Thoughts on both Victoria's presence and the abrupt departure of Don Andres' family occupied him more than he was willing to admit. It appeared that, despite his best efforts, he had been unable to hide this introspective mood from the elder man. "Just admiring the scenery, Father."

"Oh, you're admiring the scenery, Diego, but I don't believe it has anything to do with terrain." Dark eyes twinkled with amusement as Alejandro exchanged a knowing glance with Felipe. "I was surprised when you thought to invite Victoria to Santa Barbara with us."

"Oh, really, Father…" Shaking his head, the younger de la Vega chuckled. "She simply needed a break. You and I discussed that particular topic earlier in the week."

"We did, we did, indeed…and you would know better than I," the old don continued, "but I did wonder if it was such a good idea. Even I note the difference in you between Santa Barbara and Los Angeles. Perhaps now would be a good time to… _talk_ to her, let her know the _real_ Diego."

Diego blinked. It had been months since his confrontation with his tainted brother, a man known as Gilberto Risendo, in the courtyard of the de la Vega hacienda. Turned against his own family by a generation of lies from a cruel, bitter woman, Risendo sought to regain his place among the de la Vegas at the point of a sword: first by maiming Alejandro, and then killing Diego, so that Gilberto himself would be the only heir. Diego had no choice but to confront the brigand – in broad daylight, without his mask. Attempting to preserve his alternate identity, he hurriedly sent his injured father into the house, to be looked after by Felipe. But as the fight against Risendo progressed, his father re-emerged. The elder de la Vega was stunned by the display of swordsmanship he saw from his usually foppish son.

Since that day, Diego had treaded carefully around the subject of his double life. No longer had he received chiding or derision for sleeping late, or for disappearing in the midst of trouble. In fact, he strongly suspected that his father, a rational man in his own right, had put the pieces together; that Diego was also Zorro had become something of an unspoken secret between father and son. Unspoken, at least, until that moment.

"I—I'm not sure what you mean, Father. My concern has been for the Cristoba children. Felipe and I saw their departure last night, and I have been contemplating what could prompt such an action."

Don Alejandro furrowed his brow, momentarily distracted. "You saw them leave?"

Diego nodded. "I did. It was late and Felipe, in the midst of a midnight snack, it appears" – he smirked at the younger man – "was interrupted by noises by the stable. He came to get me, and we watched the children as they were loaded into a carriage and taken away."

"And you said nothing? Diego, really!"

"Father, what would you have had me do? Sabrina and Gabriel are the children of Don Andres and Doña Beatriz. How they manage their family is surely none of my affair." He paused. "Make no mistake: I am concerned. But I thought it best to investigate the situation before leaping into action."

"But—" This came from Felipe, who stopped short and began signing instead. It was clear his thoughts were well ahead of his voice.

Watching his signing, Don Diego nodded. "You're right: the situation was only further amplified by Don Andres and Doña Beatriz's quick departure this morning. I believe Victoria was going to get what information she could from Doña Helena, so perhaps we can riddle this out."

"And keep it…to ourselves." Felipe grimaced. One hand still holding the reins lightly, his hands shifted through a flurry of signals. It was clear to him, he noted, that, whatever the concern, Don Andres and Doña Beatriz didn't want to involve Don Luis and Doña Helena.

Diego gave a brisk nod. "Agreed. I think, until we have a better idea of what is happening, we should respect their wishes. If we push too hard, it's very likely we'll alienate them –"

"And not be able to help them." Alejandro shared a slight smile with Diego. Inwardly, the younger man was reeling, now assured his father knew his secret. "If Victoria really is to help you in this, Diego," Don Alejandro continued, "you should either talk to her…or risk her finding out on her own. And Heaven help you if she finds out on her own!"


	5. Chapter 5

The Best Intentions  
Chapter 5  
See Chapter 1 for disclaimer.

Note: An earlier version of this chapter had been reviewed and revised, but has disappeared along the way; I've lost contact with my previous reader. Several of her comments stuck with me, but the edits she provided are long gone. Thus, any mistakes or ill-advised content is my responsibility... My apologies for the long delay. I hope to devote a little more of my attention in the future to Zorro, Victoria, and the mystery surrounding the Cristobas. =)

* * *

It was late in the afternoon when Victoria and Doña Helena guided their horses to the hacienda stables following a long and enjoyable day in Santa Barbara. The cooling evening air around them rang with laughter and the unmistakable sounds of metal striking metal. As they dismounted, the two women exchanged glances. Doña Helena was the first to inquire.

"Hector," she said, "what on earth is that sound?"

A tall, darkly tanned vaquero looked up from the harness he was inspecting. His brow furrowed briefly before a triumphant cry was heard. "Oh, that! That is Señor de la Vega. He is behind the stables, giving his son a fencing lesson."

Victoria raised her brows. "Señor de la Vega?" she repeated. Hector nodded. "This I have to see!"

Alejandro de la Vega had, in his day, been a well-trained and decorated officer in His Majesty's Army. Victoria, however, had never known the man to be a swordsman. Then again, she thought, Diego could use all the help he can get! The few times she had seen the younger don wield a sword had been dismal; under his father's tutelage, he might learn the basics.

Removing her hat, she rounded the corner. The area behind the stables was open and airy, a slight breeze stirring around the rolling hills. It was channeled directly through the makeshift salle; the stable itself provided shade, blocking out the glare of the setting sun. Here, the clanging metal was louder, and Victoria looked to the source of the sound. She stopped abruptly at the sight before her.

Clad in his usual crisp white shirt and trousers, Diego de la Vega held a sword in a ready posture, blue eyes dancing with mischief. His gaze was firmly fixed on his opponent; the two circled each other like a pair of caged lions. To her surprise, however, his sparring partner was not Don Alejandro. It was, instead, young Felipe, Diego's adopted son. The younger man fixed his own gaze on his father, sword at the ready.

As she stood watching, Felipe pushed in, using his back foot as leverage. The tip of his sword flicked toward Diego. Diego deflected the feint easily, taking a cautious step backward. A few seconds passed, father and son watching intently for the slightest movement as they continued to circle one another. Finally sensing his moment, Felipe pushed in again, this time surpassing a feint. The point of his blade was met each time with a corresponding block by his father – left, left, right, high, low.

Then it was Diego's turn. The usually studious don sent Felipe on the defensive with a blinding series of strikes and thrusts that left the younger man retreating. Blue eyes flashed and, in the blink of an eye, Felipe's sword was swept aside, the edge of Diego's blade resting against the younger man's throat.

"Madre de Dios," Victoria whispered. Diego was – in a word – fantastic. She was no expert, but the ease and grace with which he moved was apparent…and they were not things one learned in a fortnight.

Diego dropped his stance, grinning at his son. "That was much better. We simply have to work on your response time." He patted Felipe on the shoulder. "And that, unfortunately, comes only with practice."

Felipe grimaced, shaking his head at his father. As he did, he spotted Victoria, eyes widening. He gestured slightly to Don Diego.

Breaking free of her initial shock, Victoria spoke first. "And how long have you been practicing, Diego?" She smirked as she approached. The young don gaped repeatedly as he visibly struggled toward a response.

"I – Well, Father made arrangements for me to study with Sir Edmund in Madrid," he finally managed. "I made time for a few lessons. It was the least I could do, after his efforts."

"I wondered. You took his death very hard."

And she _had_ wondered. Sir Edmund Kendall, British knight, served - according to Don Alejandro – as the saber master for the university in Madrid. He had been very well known in fencing circles for both his flamboyant style and remarkable winning streak: Sir Edmund was rarely defeated in competition. Two years prior, the saber master had arrived in Pueblo de Los Angeles, ostensibly to visit his old friend Alejandro de la Vega, and his former pupil, Don Diego. But the crafty swordsman hid an ulterior motive: He was on the run from royal bounty hunters after inadvertently meeting with a revolutionary group.

There was no safe haven to be found in Los Angeles, however. Sensing the opportunity to enrich his pockets the alcalde at the time, Luis Ramone, arranged a trap for the man. Sir Edmund was shot attempting to flee.

When he emerged from the church after Sir Edmund's death, anger radiated from Don Diego in waves, almost palpable. The reward, he stated, belonged to the man who shot Sir Edmund. The expression in his eyes was deadly; his voice was sharp. He simply dared either the bounty hunter or the alcalde to step forward and claim their reward…and his wrath. In the tense moments that followed, a silent communication occurred between Diego and the bounty hunter. Neither he, nor the alcalde, claimed the reward for Kendall's death.

Never before – and never since – had Victoria seen her friend so forceful. In the time that followed, Diego mourned the loss of his friend. She had placed little importance on that fact at the time. Her friend was a caring and compassionate man; he cared deeply for people. To see someone struck down would have been hard on him, even if he hadn't known the man.

But Sir Edmund Kendall had been more than an acquaintance, more than a friend – he had been a mentor and father figure to the young man studying in Madrid. His death, then, had to be devastating for Diego. Victoria realized in that moment that the challenge in his eyes that night had been only a brief glimpse at the de la Vega temper, held tightly in check.

Standing before him now, she could see the muscle in his jaw tighten. When he spoke his voice still carried the weight of his grief, abated only slightly in the intervening years. "Yes," he said, "his death was a great loss."

Unable to look Diego in the eye, she allowed her gaze to fall, tracing the long, silver lines of his sword. She assumed he was wielding the same lightweight model he had carried a few times before. Closer inspection revealed something different, however. The gift from his father had an intricate gold handle and a narrow guard. The sword Diego held now seemed weightier; his long fingers curled around a black leather-covered grip, protected by a wide, polished steel guard. It swept elegantly from the hilt to the pommel, reflecting the ambient light with each slight movement.

Recognition tickled at the back of her mind. There was something out of context, something that didn't _fit_, she thought. Opposite her, Diego tensed – just has he had done the previous night in the courtyard. Before she could force her thoughts toward a connection, however, he clasped his hands behind him, sword included; only the blade remained visible. It was a smooth, unhurried movement, but deliberate. She knew then that something significant had happened, but found her mind couldn't process all the signals at once. It was, she thought, not unlike trying to find a single voice among the noisy patrons in her tavern.

Looking back up at Diego, she forced a wary smile. "I…didn't realize you studied."

"Yes, well, Felipe volunteered to help me practice. I'm afraid we lost track of time, else I would have been happy to meet you as you arrived." He cleared his throat. "Did you, ah, have a good ride with Doña Helena?"

"A very good ride," Victoria answered. She forced her concern aside for later reflection, feeling her mood lighten as memories of the afternoon surfaced. "The wine shop was incredible; I placed an order for some new vintages to try in the tavern. _And_ I was able to talk to Helena about Doña Beatriz."

She recounted her conversation with Doña Helena to Diego and Felipe. Diego pursed his lips, listening intently; Victoria could almost _see_ him thinking as his mind undoubtedly worked through the details of the conversation.

"They met, courted, and married within a year, you say?" he asked, when she had finished.

Victoria nodded. "It sounded very romantic…if a bit unusual."

"Then we should examine the parish records for a wedding ceremony between Andres and Beatriz approximately twelve years ago."

Felipe regarded his father, brows furrowed. He signed his question quickly, and Victoria picked up only part of the inquiry.

"It occurs to me that, in the past twelve years, Doña Beatriz and Don Andres have led a very quiet life," Diego began slowly. "No controversies and no undue attention drawn to any accomplishments. Thus, if something _is_ wrong, my guess is that it happened before either one was married. If I'm curious about Andres, I need only ask my father. For the señora, however, the solution is not that simple. We will need to know more about her…without directly involving Don Luis and Doña Helena."

"But Diego," Victoria said, "the local padre isn't going to allow complete strangers to view the parish records. Especially when involving someone as well-known and well-liked as the Cristobas."

"Which is why, dear Victoria, we are going to stage a diversion." Diego grinned. "When was your last confession?"


	6. Chapter 6

The Best Intentions

Chapter 6

See Chapter 1 for disclaimer.

Note: Read for consistency and flow. Any mistakes in grammar, diction, or structure are my own. Many thanks to Terri, who stepped out of her own sandbox to give me a hand. =)

* * *

The mission church in Santa Barbara was different than Victoria expected. It was, she noted, much larger than the tiny mission in Pueblo de Los Angeles, with wide wooden doors and towering stucco walls. Despite the intimidating size, however, the interior was Spartan: a flickering altar of votives; hardwood pews without cushion; and a lone crucifix above the pulpit for décor and blessing. Like Los Angeles, an air of reverent silence surrounded her.

She was suddenly struck by a wave of discomfort. Crossing herself, she prayed for both forgiveness and courage. Their plan was a decent one: Victoria would keep Padre Salinas in discussion, while Diego would search the parish records, and Felipe would serve as lookout. Simple, effective. Anything more complicated seemed to invite discovery. Still, she wondered, wouldn't it be easier to simply _ask_ for the information? Surely Padre Salinas, the local shepherd, would understand their desire to help their friends?

Even before Victoria completed the thought, she knew better. Don Luis and Doña Helena Cristoba occupied a position in Santa Barbara not unlike the one held by the de la Vegas in Los Angeles: They were civic leaders, and widely respected for their efforts. A similar inquiry into the de la Vegas would yield a skeptical dismissal by their own Padre Benitez, a dismissal likely echoed in Santa Barbara by Padre Salinas.

All of this she understood. It did little, however, to assuage the guilt that struck her as she knelt at the altar. _How_ had Diego talked her into this again? She sighed. _Ah yes_, she thought. _By appealing to your worry with beautiful words and a charming smile._ Her old friend could apparently be very persuasive when he wanted to be!

Movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention and she shifted slightly. Diego clung to the shadows on the far side of the church, even as he made his way toward the padre's study. He moved with such a practiced ease, it surprised her. It was a grace she expected from a particularly cunning fox, not the clumsy don.

Victoria blinked. _That_ was what was wrong: The sword. In daylight. Wielded not by a man dressed in the finest black silk, but by bookish, peaceful Diego de la Vega in a plain white shirt. Suddenly, all the tiny pieces clicked into place: Sir Edmund Kendall; Diego's appraisal of Gabriel's toy saber; the shadows in the courtyard; the sword; the charming smile. Her knuckles went white on the railing.

_Diego was Zorro!_

A hand on her shoulder startled her. "Senorita? Are you all right?"

Turning, she found a taller man, angular, and capped with a shock of white hair hovering over her. She recognized him almost instantly from earlier discussions with Don Luis and Doña Helena: Padre Salinas. "Oh, Padre," she whispered, eyes stinging, "I...don't know!"

The padre gave a kind smile as his hazel eyes softened and he gestured to the front pew. "Well," he began slowly, "why don't you come sit with me and we can talk about it?"

Victoria followed his direction automatically. As her attention flitted past Padre Salinas, however, she watched Diego slip easily into the study. The severity of the situation mingled with the shock still evident on her features. She would definitely be able to keep the padre occupied, but how could she discuss..._this_...without risking the identity of the bandit known throughout Spanish California?

Padre Salinas seemed to sense her internal struggle. He patted her hands, now wringing the ends of her scarf. "Take all the time you need to compose yourself; we have an entire day ahead of us."

* * *

It was not until their ride back to the Cristoba hacienda that Diego realized something was wrong with Victoria – very wrong. The plan worked as they suspected it might, though it had taken him much longer than he expected to find the twelve year-old records. He needn't have worried, however; Victoria's distraction of Padre Salinas worked. Diego had managed to gather the information without being discovered, then waited outside with Felipe some fifteen minutes before Victoria had emerged from the church. She needed counsel more than she thought, she explained.

And those had been the last words the tavern owner had spoken since their departure. Concerned, Felipe passed him an inquisitive glance, brows raised. Diego could only shrug. He furrowed his brow. "Victoria?"

Victoria looked up at Diego. Her expression was pleasant enough, but her eyes revealed a slight puffiness and inner turmoil. "What is it, Diego?"

"Are you...all right?"

"Fine, Diego. Just fine."

He exchanged glances with Felipe. What had she and Padre Salinas discussed, the younger man signed. He discretely drew his finger in the shape of a "Z" just above the pommel of his saddle, and Diego nodded slightly. It was the only thing that made sense. But what could the good padre have said to upset Victoria so?

"Felipe says you don't sound fine...and I notice you haven't even asked what I found in the parish records." The caballero forced a smile. "Are you sure you're all right?"

Victoria regarded him, head cocked to the side as her gaze took in his features. It was an appraisal that left him somewhat unnerved. "I will be – I think – given time," she answered. She averted her attention briefly to give Felipe a weakly reassuring smile, then looked back to Diego. "And what was it that you found?"

Her expression and tone implied she was humoring him. He decided to take that as a good sign. "It would seem that she was known, prior to marrying Andres, as Senorita Beatriz Cortes."

"Cortes? As in...?" Victoria raised her brows.

"If she is the same Beatriz Cortes born to father's former commanding officer, Horacio Cortes, then yes. She listed her location of birth as Santa Paula, which would fit with what I know. The brigadier settled there with his wife shortly before mother and father arrived in California."

"And you know this how?"

"Father kept in touch with him for a number of years after arriving in California. They eventually had a falling out and lost contact...but I remember his mentioning Cortes' daughter, Beatriz."

Diego watched as Victoria contemplated the information, frowning, and biting her lower lip. Their discussion had temporarily broken through the initial barrier she had constructed, and for that, he was glad. A tap on his arm, however, drew his attention to Felipe.

"Wh-what would they have f-fought over?" the younger man asked.

For this question, Diego had no answer. "Father never discussed it with me, and I never thought to ask."

Victoria nodded. "If she _is_ the same Beatriz Cortes," she began, "and she _is_ the daughter of this Horacio Cortes, then why the quiet marriage? A wedding between two families like the Cristobas and the Cortes would be quite the celebration, wouldn't it?"

"It would be... or should be." The caballero narrowed his eyes over the horizon as the hacienda came into view. "I think," he said slowly, "that a discussion with father might be in order."


	7. Chapter 7

The Best Intentions

Chapter 7

See Chapter 1 for disclaimer.

Note: Beta read for consistency and flow. Any other errors you see are my own. Thanks again to Terri, to whom I say: Come to the Dark Side. We have tamales. =)

* * *

Diego found any answers about Beatriz Cortes would have to wait: While he, Felipe, and Victoria rode into town, Don Alejandro and Don Luis had retreated to the study, finally concluding the business that originally brought the de la Vegas to Santa Barbara. Neither man emerged until the call to dinner.

Dinner itself proved to be...uncomfortable. Victoria, for all her effort to appear normal, still refused to look him directly in the eye, and said very little. Such subdued behavior from the fiery señorita then attracted the attention of his father, who, between discussions about the new prize bull and rising stud fees, took every opportunity to glare at him over the rim of his wineglass. Felipe was little help in this regard; the impish smile hidden behind his juice glass told Diego he was amused by his adoptive father's current predicament. Diego could only narrow his eyes at the younger man, silently vowing that his next swordplay lesson would be difficult, indeed.

If Don Luis and Doña Helena noted the tensions between their visitors, they did not comment. It was a great relief to Diego when, dinner completed, Helena rose and suggested they adjourn to the salon for coffee.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," he intoned. Standing, he placed his napkin beside his dinner plate and cleared his throat. "Father, might I speak with you for a moment?"

Alejandro nodded. "Of course, Diego." He regarded Don Luis and Doña Helena. "We'll be with you shortly." They nodded and Alejandro indicated the doors which led to the courtyard. "After you, son."

As they stepped across the threshold, Diego gave a deep sigh. The hacienda staff had already lighted the courtyard lanterns, deepening the wash of color and shadows around them; he took comfort in the growing darkness. "You completed your legal business with Don Luis today?"

"I did," the elder de la Vega replied. "And I take it from Victoria's silence at dinner that you talked to her?"

Diego shook his head. "I did not. We rode in to the church this morning –"

"Church? What on earth for?"

"To get a peek at the parish records," he replied. "In discussing things with Felipe and Victoria, we came to the conclusion that whatever we're facing likely deals with Doña Beatriz's past. To find out more about that past, we needed to know who she was."

"And what did the parish records say?"

"That she was originally known as Beatriz Cortes of Santa Paula." Hearing her voice, Diego looked up to find Victoria as she stepped into the courtyard. She offered both Diego and Alejandro a taut smile. "I hope I'm not interrupting?"

"Not at all," Diego answered. "Please – join us. I was just about to discuss our findings with Father."

Victoria nodded her thanks, taking a position to his left, leaning against an arbor that led to the garden. The young don returned her taut smile. He attempted to ignore the way her arm accidentally brushed his as she stood beside him. Then he saw the way she looked at him through her lashes. _Was_ it accidental? Before he could comment, she continued, "Diego says he suspects she may be the daughter of your former commanding officer, a Brigadier Cortes?"

"Cortes? _Horacio_ Cortes?" he echoed. "I haven't thought of him in years – at least, not since I heard his wife had passed." The elder man pursed his lips. "Yes, it's entirely possible that Beatriz is his daughter...if she is really from Santa Paula, as the parish records say."

"Didn't you keep in contact with him for a number of years?" Diego asked.

"I did, but we had a... _disagreement_... shortly after Beatriz was born; I stopped writing after that."

His son regarded him with a furrowed brow. "_You_ stopped writing? But Brigadier Cortes didn't?"

Alejandro shook his head. "Not for a while. It was his hope to betroth Beatriz to you. When I objected, he continued to write, arguing his case. A marriage to someone of royal blood was the only possible match for his little girl."

Diego blinked. "To _me_?"

"To you. You may recall, Diego, that very few members of the royal family have ventured to the colonies and stayed," the don replied. "But you were about to leave for Madrid, and, as much as I crave grandchildren, you were young and I wanted you to make the match yourself." Diego didn't miss the sidelong glance his father gave Victoria. "I wanted you to be as happy as your mother and I were; I didn't see much hope for that in an arranged marriage."

"I – and any future Doña de la Vega – thank you for that," Diego said. Beside him, Victoria blushed; he pretended not to notice. "If Brigadier Cortes made other arrangements after that," he continued, "it serves to reason that Beatriz, herself, may have been averse to the match—"

It was Victoria who finished the thought. "And ran away when faced with marrying someone she didn't love?" She looked directly at Diego for the first time that evening. There was excitement and surprise dancing in her eyes, visible even in the diminishing light. "But she's so..._proper_! Do you really think she'd break with her father?"

"Backed into a corner, people often do things they never thought possible," Diego answered. _Like donning a mask and a cape,_ he thought. "If she _did_ break with her father to marry Andres," he continued aloud, "it would explain why the marriage was a quiet one. Brigadier Cortes may not have approved of the match."

The younger caballero could still feel Victoria's eyes on him, and as he turned, her expression softened considerably. "Love can make you do so many crazy things," she said quietly.

Diego could not miss the import of her words. She knew. Somehow, when given a few moments to reflect, his beautiful Victoria had figured it out. _That certainly explains her behavior this afternoon!_ But where was her anger? Where was the rejection he had so feared? He swallowed back the knot that rose in his throat, reaching to take her hand in his. "It fries a man's brain like a crisp tortilla."

"And makes a woman forgive a lot more than she ever thought possible."

Don Alejandro cleared his throat. In some part of his mind, Diego knew the growing intensity of his interaction with Victoria was making his father uncomfortable. At this particular moment, however, he found it difficult to care. "I'll go talk with Felipe about riding out to visit Don Andres and Doña Beatriz tomorrow," Alejandro said, adjusting the silk tie at his throat. "I think it's time we went to the source."

The young couple turned to him simultaneously. "Thank you, Father."

"Don't, ah, be out here too long." Alejandro wagged a finger at his son and Victoria. "I'll be back in ten minutes... and I _won't_ make apologies for you to Luis and Helena!"


	8. Chapter 8

The Best Intentions

Chapter 8

See Chapter 1 for disclaimer.

Note: Posted sans beta. Any mistakes or irregularities you see are my own.

Thank you all for your reviews thus far. There are a few twists and turns I've yet to work out, but your feedback has encouraged me as I struggle to write myself out of a few corners. Here's hoping the muses continue to cooperate!

* * *

Turning his attention back to Victoria, Diego was surprised at the flickering emotions reflected in her eyes: wonder, affection, confusion, and relief. There was no trace of the anger he had long feared from the fiery señorita. "Ten minutes hardly seems long enough," she said.

Diego took a step closer, eliminating the gap between them. He could feel his heartbeat accelerate, his lungs constricting as his own emotions struggled to the surface. Bringing his free hand to her cheek, he traced his thumb gently across the smooth surface. "Ten minutes is only the beginning, _querida_."

"But there's so much to say –" Victoria's gaze flitted to his lips, and he knew talking wasn't the only thing on her mind. He obliged her by drawing her into him, his lips meeting hers with familiar warmth. Her hands clutched at the ruffles on the front of his crisp caballero shirt, even as his fingers tangled in her hair. It was a kiss unlike those shared with Victoria as Zorro: There was an exaltation of freedom, of her acceptance of boring old Diego as her masked hero. His blood fairly sang at the rush. It was a kiss, he thought, that promised – nay, encouraged – much more than was proper.

Summoning his fading self-control, Diego drew back, placing a kiss to the tip of her nose. "Why didn't you say anything?" His voice emerged as little more than a whisper.

"I—I couldn't," Victoria answered. She laid her head against his chest, cradled in his arms. "I had no idea what to say or how to say it." She chuckled. "I was speechless."

"You? Speechless?" The tall caballero chuckled as well. "You managed to speak with Padre Salinas."

"Padre Salinas!" Victoria sighed. "Not only was I struck dumb, but somehow, through all that, I realized I had to speak so he didn't know I was talking about you – about Zorro!"

"I suspected he – Zorro – might have been your topic of concern with the good padre," Diego said. "I'd no idea you'd figured it out."

"The funny thing is that I don't think I would have figured it out so quickly if we _hadn't_ gone to the church." She shook her head. "I saw you moving in the shadows, almost like you _belonged_ there. Then it all fell into place – the shadows that night in the courtyard; the sword and fencing with Felipe; your height; your eyes...Everything was suddenly so _clear_."

The young caballero regarded her warily. "So you're not mad at me?"

"Furious – with you and with myself." Victoria's fingertips grazed the hair at his temples, her brown eyes warming as a soft smile curved her lips."But so glad to have found _you_ that the tongue-lashing you deserve will just have to wait."

_A very attractive sword of Damocles_, Diego thought. He brushed his lips across hers. "And how long will this 'tongue-lashing' have to wait?"

"I'm not sure," Victoria replied. "You keep distracting me."

The breathy quality of her voice sent a warm rush through him. There really was much to discuss, from the years he spent hiding behind the mask, to finding a way to be together, without arousing the suspicions of the alcalde. But as he stood there, her body held against his, her hair slightly disheveled and eyes aglow, little else seemed to matter. "Then I'll have to see that you remain distracted," he replied, offering a familiar smirk.

Their shadows blended into one indistinct form as the tall caballero proceeded to delay her outburst further; Victoria offered him little resistance, instead baring her neck as she sighed. Diego took up the unspoken invitation. He traced the exposed, extended lines with searing kisses and whispered endearments before finally recapturing her mouth with his own.

A stern "ahem" a few moments later pierced the haze Diego himself could not seem to break. He drew back slowly from Victoria, noting that they had somehow worked themselves back against the courtyard wall. He turned to his father, expression sheepish. "Father."

Don Alejandro, for his part, regarded his son and Victoria with a wry grin. "A very...heated...discussion, I see," he said. "Maybe I should have only given you five minutes."

"Yes, well…" Diego cleared his throat, deciding a change of subject was in order. "We're set to ride to see Andres and Beatriz tomorrow?"

The elder de la Vega nodded. "All of us – including Luis and Helena."

"You told them of our suspicions?"

"I mentioned we were concerned," Alejandro answered, "and suggested we pay them a visit. Luis agreed."

Victoria smiled. "And Doña Helena is not one to be left behind."

"Indeed, Victoria; she is not." Don Alejandro pointed over his shoulder, in the general direction of the sala. "When she heard my discussion with Luis, she insisted on accompanying us."

"I'm not sure that's wise," Diego said, grimacing. "Inviting the Cristobas may hamper our efforts to get conclusive answers from Andres and Beatriz; they may not want to speak freely in front of them."

"True, Diego. But, right or wrong, Andres is their son, and Beatriz is their daughter. They'll want to help any way they can – just as I would for you, Victoria, or Felipe."

Victoria shifted slightly in Diego's arms, her brow knitted in concern. "Don Alejandro –"

Alejandro held up a hand, and her objections died on her lips. "Victoria, you are family," he said, casting a sidelong glance that, in the growing darkness, Diego more felt than saw. "Maybe one day soon we can make it official. Until then, I think we should join Luis and Helena for coffee." He gestured toward the house.

Blushing, Victoria smoothed her hands over her hair as she stepped out of Diego's embrace. "Of course, Don Alejandro."

Diego turned to follow her, but stopped short as he felt the weight of a hand on his shoulder. Even as he paused, his eyes continued watching his intended as she stepped into the hacienda. He took a moment to appreciate her feminine curves and the flow of her skirts. Looking to his father, he saw the elder don had noted his appreciative gaze.

"Diego," Alejandro began slowly, "you and Victoria haven't…?"

It was clear to Diego what his father couldn't bring himself to ask. "No, Father." He shook his head. "Though I have been sorely tempted." He didn't have the heart to tell his father it was more due to lack of opportunity than any steely resolve.

"Good, good." Don Alejandro paused, considering the answer. He then clapped his son on the shoulder and waved his hand toward the open door. "After you, Diego. We shouldn't keep the señorita waiting."

Diego grinned, stepping through before his father. He had little intention of making Victoria wait any longer than necessary.


End file.
